by Kim Baldwin
She shook her head in puzzlement as she watched Megan beach the kayak and head to the lodge. She just couldn’t fathom what could be behind the woman’s prickly attitude, or why she seemed to be so strangely drawn to her despite it.
*
Chaz went back to her room and took a long hot shower before setting off for the airstrip to pick up Sally an hour before dinner.
“Everything went well, I trust?” Chaz inquired after their hellos.
“Great. I brought some pictures I’ll show you later.” They climbed into the van, Chaz behind the wheel, and headed to the lodge. “So how does it look?” Sally asked. “Anybody need special handling?”
“It’ll be a good group, I think. Everyone did well on the water today. Pat and Linda are really top-notch kayakers—we sure don’t have to worry about them. I’d say Justine and Yancey are above average, and Elise and Megan both learned the strokes pretty well and managed to do a roll.”
“So if everyone did good why are you in a lousy mood?”
“I’m not in a lousy mood.” Chaz glanced over at her partner guide. Sally sat facing her in the large bucket seat, with a look on her face that said she wasn’t buying it for a minute. “Okay, I’m a little…well, annoyed, maybe, at one of the clients. That’s all. It’s nothing. And I won’t sour your judgment. You can make up your own mind.”
“Oh, no, you’re not getting off that easily. Give it up. What’s the deal?”
“Forget I said anything.”
“Spill, Chaz,” Sally demanded in a sterner voice.
“Well, one of them is kind of…abrupt. You know—hard to warm up to. Not a lot of social skills.”
“Sounds like someone I know,” Sally remarked, a smirk on her face.
“Who, me? I’m not like that.”
“Well, you’re great with the clients after you get to know them a bit. But you do tend to be a bit standoffish at first. And you don’t let many people get to know you well.”
“Oh, I’m not that bad.”
“No? And when was the last time you went out on a date, hmm?” Sally pressed.
“That has nothing to do with anything. And how did we suddenly start talking about me and my dating habits, anyway?”
“Doesn’t matter. Now that we are, fill me in. Your love life improve any over the winter? You deftly avoided the subject during the whole last trip. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
“Sally, you know I’m very happy with the status quo,” Chaz said.
“I know what that means.”
“It means I’m not necessarily lonely just because I’m alone.”
“Oh, that’s crap, pardon the expression.” Sally reached over and gave Chaz’s shoulder a shove for emphasis. “You’re scared of getting involved and you know it.”
“I am not. I’m selective. How did we ever get off on this subject? We were talking about the clients.”
“Speaking of which,” Sally said, “I saw the way Elise was coming on to you when she introduced herself.” A lot of cute women hit on Chaz, but as far as Sally was aware, her friend never took anyone up on their offers.
“Well, you know my feelings about that. It’s so unprofessional. I would never get involved with a client. Kind of like sleeping with one of my students.”
“Maybe during the trip, you could argue that, although personally I don’t see a problem with it. And there’s certainly nothing wrong with taking somebody’s phone number and getting to know them better afterwards,” Sally suggested.
“If I ever get hit on by somebody I have real chemistry with, I promise I’ll think about it, okay? What do you know, we’re here,” Chaz announced as they pulled up at the lodge.
“You’re not off the hook, you know. We’re going to talk about this some more,” Sally promised.
“Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. I know you mean well. But we have lots of other things to think about right now.” Chaz opened the door of the van, hoping it would end the discussion.
But Sally wouldn’t let it go. She put her hand on Chaz’s forearm to keep her in her seat. “You can handle two things at once, Chaz. You should always keep an open mind in matters of the heart. You never know when an opportunity might present itself.”
Chaz patted her friend’s hand. “Spoken like the true married-for-life die-hard romantic that you are, Sally. Tom is a lucky man.”
“You’re a good catch too,” Sally said. “Smart, funny, bighearted, and cute as a bug.”
“Aw, gosh, you’ll turn a girl’s head.” Chaz sighed dramatically. “It’s such a shame you’re not gay.”
“So…I counted at least three from your team among our clients. That couple who were all over each other—Pat and Linda, right?”
Chaz nodded.
“And Elise, for sure,” Sally continued. “Any chance of anything happening there? She’s cute, and sure interested in you, my friend.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter. I told you I don’t date clients.”
“Translation—she doesn’t make your heart go pitter-pat. What about the others? Did your gaydar give you good vibes about any of the rest?”
Megan’s face popped into Chaz’s head. The way she’d looked after the roll, all flushed with excitement. Chaz could feel the heat rise to her cheeks.
Sally’s eyes got wide. “Oh? And what’s this? Hey, wait a minute. This client that’s so…annoying. Do you mean annoying as in ‘getting under your skin’?”
“Jeez, Sally. Lay off already, would ya?” Chaz got out of the van and headed toward the lodge.
“I bet I get it figured out within twenty-four hours,” Sally predicted as she trotted up the steps behind her friend.
Of course Megan would be the only client in the lobby. She was back in the same chair she’d been in that morning, this time with her attention on a book. They had to go right by her to get to their rooms. We can’t just ignore her. Chaz dearly hoped her blush wouldn’t worsen with Sally on high alert. And even more than that, she prayed that Megan wouldn’t notice her embarrassment. Get a grip.
Megan looked up as they approached. She glanced at Chaz only briefly before turning her full attention to Sally. She gave her a big smile. “Hi, Sally. How was the graduation?”
“My kind of ceremony.” Sally paused in front of Megan’s chair. “Short and sweet and all concerned straight to the nearest Irish pub after. So I heard you did an Eskimo roll today. Congratulations.”
“Yes. Thanks.” Megan glanced at Chaz, but when their eyes met she promptly looked away again and back at Sally. “I’m not entirely certain I could do it again, but I did manage it.”
“You’ll do some more,” Chaz said. “I want everyone to do a few while we’re in the slower water. We’ll have a couple more rolling sessions in the early stretches of the river after we set up camp.”
Megan glanced down at her watch. “It’s nearly dinner time.” As she got to her feet she shot Sally another smile. “I’m going back to my room to wash up. Looking forward to getting to know you, Sally. See you in a few minutes?”
“Yup. See you in a bit.”
“Bye,” Chaz added, but Megan was already heading away from them. She didn’t look back, and she didn’t acknowledge the farewell.
“My stuff still in the conference room?” Sally asked.
Chaz stared after Megan for several moments, bothered by the fact that she’d seemed much warmer to Sally right from the start. She was positively effervescent, compared to how she was when it was only the two of them. What gives?
She suddenly realized Sally was waiting for an answer. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I said, is my gear still in the conference room?”
“Yeah, do you have your key?”
Sally dug in her pockets. “Nope. Must be in my bag. Can I borrow yours?”
“Why am I not surprised?” Chaz fished for her key. Being organized was not Sally’s strong point.
“So which one is the rude one that’s got you all hot an
d bothered? You going to tell me?”
“Knock it off.” Chaz handed her the key. “Please?”
“‘Fraid not, chum. This is the first time I’ve ever seen you even mildly interested in someone. It’s especially intriguing that you seemed to be repulsed by her even as you are attracted to her.”
“I wouldn’t say repulsed,” Chaz blurted out before she could stop herself.
“Aha! I knew it!”
“Oh, shit.”
Sally was laughing now. “Okay, who is it?”
“I have things to do,” Chaz lied. “And so do you. I’m going to my room.” She headed off in that direction.
“You can escape for now,” Sally relented. “But we’re not finished!” she hollered after her.
Dinner only served to reinforce Chaz’s growing perception that it wasn’t that Megan was distant and rude. It was that she was distant and rude to her. Megan was chatty and charming and animated at dinner, down there at the other end of the table between Justine and Sally. She had arrived last and had taken the farthest seat she could from Chaz. Was that deliberate? So she could get away with not having to say a word to me all evening?
Over the next hour while the women lingered over drinks and dessert, Chaz sat brooding, observing Megan and amazed at the transformation. The woman who had spent the previous night staring out the window seemed interested in anything and everything tonight, engaging everyone in sparkling conversation. Everyone, that is, but her. Megan ignored her all evening, ignored her so absolutely and completely that she wondered how it was possible that not a single person at the table seemed to notice.
Chapter Five
Megan stood looking out of the thick insulated window in her room, sipping coffee and berating herself for her cowardice. You won’t be able to hide from her much longer.
There was a knock on her door. “Come on in,” she called, and Justine entered, carrying her three dry bags of gear. She dumped them inside the door.
“Got any more of that?” she asked, indicating Megan’s steaming mug with a tilt of her head.
“Sorry, they only give you enough coffee for four small cups, and this is the last of it.”
“That’s all right. I’ve got to get going anyway if I’m going to have time for breakfast before we go,” Justine said. “Just wanted to stop and make sure you haven’t changed your mind.”
“No. I know it’s silly. I’m going to have to spend the next eleven days with the woman. A plane ride shouldn’t matter one way or the other.”
“I understand, Megan. It really is eerie how much they look alike. They say we all have a twin somewhere.”
“I guess. Anyway, thanks for hustling to get ready to go in my place.”
At dinner the night before, Chaz had announced the arrangements for the morning flights to the river, since they all couldn’t fit in the Twin Otter. She would take the first flight out at eight, along with Linda, Pat, and Megan. Sally would take the second at nine-thirty, with Yancey, Justine, and Elise.
Megan didn’t object at the time, but she’d decided, after another mostly sleepless night, that she’d take any opportunity she could to avoid having to be close to Chaz. So she’d tapped on Justine’s door a half hour earlier and asked if she would switch flights.
“What do you want me to say if she asks why we’ve changed places?” Justine asked.
“Say I overslept and needed the extra time to get ready.”
“Anything else I can do?”
Megan shook her head. “Thanks, though.”
“You sorry you came along?”
Megan sipped her coffee and thought about it. “Yes and no. I have to admit that Alaska is everything you said it was. And more. Spectacularly beautiful. And I’m actually beginning to look forward to the whole kayaking thing.” Her expression went grim. “But every time I look at her, it tears my guts out all over again. Instead of relaxing, I’m reliving some of the worst nightmares of my life.”
Justine took two steps and put her arms around Megan. After a moment, Megan relaxed and hugged her back.
“She was a shit, Megan,” Justine said gently. “You need to move on.”
“Oh, I moved on a long time ago.” Megan disengaged from their embrace.
“Have you?”
“Oh, come on. I date all the time.”
“And how many women in the last five years have you dated more than once or twice?”
Megan turned away to look out the window again, and the question hung in the air. “You better get going,” she said finally, without looking at Justine.
“I didn’t mean to get you pissed off at me.”
“I’m not.” Her tone and posture made it clear that she most certainly was.
Justine sighed. “I’ll see you at the river, then.” When Megan made no move to answer, Justine picked up her gear and departed.
I am over you, Megan chanted again and again to herself, as if the words could form a talisman to keep images of Rita and their life together at bay. They’d had five wonderful, perfect years together. Life in suburbia, white picket fence, exotic getaways, and exceptional sex.
But so far, Chaz had been stirring up mostly negative memories. Memories of the day. March 29. The day Megan’s orderly life turned upside down, and everything she thought she knew went right out the window. The day a stranger told her that her loving, devoted wife was screwing someone else, probably right at that moment, in the posh hotel room the network had booked for her at the Paris economic summit.
Back then, Megan was only a copy editor, so she rarely got calls in the middle of the night, even when a major story broke. The anchors ad-libbed everything, and there was always a skeleton crew of writers and editors to cover any event. So when her phone rang at 2:30 a.m., she was instantly awake and immediately worried that something had happened to Rita, who was on assignment in Paris. The voice on the phone was unfamiliar.
“Megan Maxwell?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t know me, Megan. Can I call you Megan?” The caller had sounded like she was crying.
Megan’s heartbeat picked up. “What is it? Is it Rita?”
The caller laughed, a hollow laugh that became a sob.
“What is it? Has something happened?” Megan gripped the phone so tight her knuckles went white.
“Yes, it’s about Rita. And yes, something’s happened.” Megan could tell the caller was trying to compose herself. “There’s no way to tell you this except to tell you. Rita is cheating on you and she’s going to leave you.”
The words hung there. She closed her eyes and saw them in her head, pictured bloodred letters on a black background. RITA IS CHEATING ON YOU AND SHE’S GOING TO LEAVE YOU. She thought in words and pictures, a photographic memory. Usually like a newspaper. Black letters on a white background. But not this time.
“Are you there?” The stranger’s voice jarred her.
“I don’t believe you.” Rita had kissed her good-bye like she always did. Nothing at all different. They’d made love the night before she left. It had been wonderful, as always. At least for Megan it was wonderful. The first doubt crept in.
“You have no idea she’s been seeing my girlfriend for six months?” the caller asked shakily.
Six months? It was impossible. “Your girlfriend? Who are you?”
“My name is Denise. My girlfriend is…was…Iliana Theroux.”
A face sprang instantly to Megan’s mind. Clear blue eyes set against lush dark eyelashes, bronze skin. Iliana Theroux was the exotically beautiful chief foreign correspondent for the Canadian Broadcasting Company. The CBC had a reciprocal arrangement with WNC, so Iliana’s reports often aired on the shows that Megan edited.
But how? Iliana Theroux was based in Washington. And Rita had been in the capital a lot during the past year, filling in for vacationing reporters in the D.C. bureau. WNC was grooming her for big things, maybe a permanent gig as one of the White House press corps, and Rita had never been happier. She’s always
been ambitious. She told me that on our first date. Megan’s stomach churned.
“They met when both were covering some State Department briefing,” Denise went on, her voice calmer. “The briefing kept getting delayed, so they had a couple of hours to get to know each other. Apparently it was love at first sight, or so they say.”
They say. Her stomach roiled in violent upheaval, and she felt the first tears form.
“Iliana moved out last week. I knew they were seeing each other, but I thought it was a fling. It wasn’t the first time.” Denise wept softly into the phone. “I knew she was never in love with me, but she always came home.” There was the muffled sound of her blowing her nose. “I had no idea how serious it was until she announced she was leaving. She told me everything, then. She says they’re getting married in Amsterdam next month.”
Married. And legally married if they’re going to the Netherlands. It had been a major story on WNC and the networks that week—it was going to be legal for same-sex couples to wed there in just a few days. Megan and Rita had made private vows on a beach at Lake Michigan, promising to love each other forever. Her head swam. It was unbelievable. Unthinkable. That Rita had been pretending to love her. How long has she been lying to me?
“Your girlfriend’s hired a lawyer,” Denise said wearily. “I overheard Iliana on the phone with her. They were talking about telling you, but it sounded like Rita wasn’t going to until she hired a lawyer. Something about your house and bank account, I think.”
The house was in both their names. And Megan hadn’t checked the account balance at the bank in a long time. Rita paid all the bills out of their joint account, took care of all things financial.
“Iliana at least was honest with me in the end and tried to make it easy on me.” Denise sounded desolate. “I saw the news tonight and realized they’re both in Paris at that summit. So I knew you’d be alone, and I thought you should know. That’s all. I’m sorry.”
There was a soft click and then a dial tone. Megan had listened to that dull drone for several long seconds, frozen with shock. She’d been on the phone for five minutes or less. That was all it took for her whole life to change.